


Laslow in Nohr: Nightmares

by Pheasant



Series: Laslow in Nohr [3]
Category: Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Coping with the Apocalypse, Gen, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-26 04:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13850010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pheasant/pseuds/Pheasant
Summary: The nightmares sometimes take Laslow over, dragging him into the abyss that he locks away behind a smile and an easy laugh. He always wished they would just go away, but they never did and it seemed he was stuck with them. At the end of the day, he either had to confront them or suffer. He was willing to take only one of those, and it sure wasn't confronting his fears and problems.





	1. The War

The grey walls of the ~~Nohrian~~ Ylissian castle were spattered with blood and whatever remains stuck themselves on the stone as the fog rolled in through the gaping hole in the side. Anyone who was still alive was running as far and fast as they could, as if running would save them. Clouds covered the sky, as always, and the air stunk of rotting flesh and blood. In the center of the crumbled castle, surrounded by Risen and the cowards they ripped apart stood Laslow. He had been in Nohr just a moment ago, he had thought, but it was just another foolish dream. They had not won the war. There was no escape for the children of the war.

 ~~Elise~~ Lissa, who looked just a bit younger than Laslow remembered, ran over to the ~~dancer~~  warrior and grabbed him by the arm. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out. It was just silence, save for the screams. There was nothing but the screams. But it was fine, he was used to it by now. He had to be used to it by now, because if he wasn't then he wouldn't be able to smile. Without that ever-present smile he ~~despised~~  needed like he needed to ~~cry~~  draw breath, no one else would have hope. ~~It would be better that way.~~ He couldn't even consider a world that way.

Laslow forced a smile, pretending that he didn't know that  ~~this was a dream~~ they were going to die any moment. The Risen were closing in faster and faster, and there was no way to stop them. He couldn't beaten them, even with  ~~Elise~~ Lissa healing him and backing him up. There was nothing but death and the war. If he made her run now, he could save Lissa and sacrifice himself. She ~~deserved to live~~ was faster than him, she surely would survive.

"Run," he told her, pretending he couldn't hear his voice because it didn't contain the cheer he needed it to. She would ~~look down on him~~ miss him if she knew what he was going to do. "Run, Lissa! Odin won't go on if you don't!" He shook the ~~younger, innocent like she hadn't been in the war at all~~  older woman off of his arm and pushed her towards the only viable exit with desperation.  ~~~~

She didn't move. She stayed there, by his side, trying to shout loud enough for him to hear her over the screams. He couldn't hear her and turned away. There was nothing but the screams. There was only the war, there was no escape. He had to fight to his death with a smile on his face, because he-

"Wake up!"

Lissa's words reached up, though it wasn't her voice. It was far deeper, and male, for that. He tried to ignore it the best he could. He ~~did~~ didn't know that voice. He ~~wanted to~~ couldn't listen to what it was saying. A Risen approached and he cut it down like he was raised to do. 

"Wake up, Laslow! Gods, what are you dreaming?"

He ignored it. The voice wasn't there. There was only the war and the fighting. This was where he belonged. he did not deserve peace, there was nothing after the war. He shouldn't have gone back. His family would have been better off never-

"Laslow, wake the hell up!"

His eyes flew open as his sword swung down on the bow that Niles, not scared but determined and annoyed as if this had been going on for far too long, was holding up to shield himself. The two weapons never connected and Laslow jumped back to make sure he didn't cause Niles any undue harm. There were no visible wounds, btut hat didn't mean he didn't cause damage. To his own alies, what was he thinking? He could have-

"I don't normally think of this when I think of using swords in the bedroom," Niles cut in with a smirk. "I take it you're awake now?"

"Yeah, I'm awake," Laslow said with a shaky smile. He was always smiling, even though he was screaming at himself inside of his head. Naga, he was so pathetic. "I'm sorry I attacked you. I guess I reacted instinctively." He tried to laugh it off, but it didn't even work on himself. 

"Yeah, you were in some nightmare." Niles had no intention of letting him go without some sort of conversation, to Laslow's horror. "Childhood memories?"

The accuracy stunned the silver-haired swordsman and he paused for a moment before answering, his surprise flashing clearly on his face. "Something like that," he admitted lightly. "More like thinking I hadn't escaped something that I left behind years ago. I'm sorry again for attacking you. I... It won't happen again."

"I know it won't," Niles agreed easily, sounding far too sincere to be needling him like he did all the others in the castle. The swordsman began to feel mildly relieved, until Niles spoke again. "Hey, Laslow?"

The relief turned to a stone that sank into his stomach.

"Yes? What is it?" He hoped vainly that he didn't show the nervousness inside. If Niles changed his mind and told Lord Xander, he could lose everything.

"If you need to talk about whatever it was that made you fight for your life before you even woke up properly, talk to me. Of all people, I'll probably get it."

The kind offer was left in the doorway as Niles left it, taking his bow with him. He didn't know why he bothered being surprised.


	2. Smiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inigo was just a child when his mother died. He was a child with a purpose, one he fulfilled for the rest of his life and continued to do so even when he became Laslow rather than Inigo. That was his curse, his sentence. There was nothing that could save him now.

Inigo was just a child when his mother died. They never kept track of age, not since The War began which was before any of the children but Lucina, so he never quite knew how old he was when his mother died. He knew that he was old enough to hold a sword and old enough to fight, but he was much too young to have sex. Later, he determined that he must have been around nine or ten. He remembered that day, how she fell down in front of him and how her last words were to his father- a demand to protect her son. That was an awful day, but the worst came after all the Risen who had helped slay his mother had fallen.

The army gathered together in an empty field to remember those who had fallen and burn their bodies. Inigo remembered seeing his mother's corpse, wrapped up in linen that used to be white but had turned permanently pink from the bloodstains that had to be removed time and time again. He stood there beside his father, and everyone was somber. There was no music, laughing or dancing. No joy existed in the few adults that remained, nor in the children that followed. Owain stood by Inigo's side, his hand gripping the other's tightly as if to comfort both of them at once. With the way things had gone, he knew that lack of moral would kill them. It was as clear to him as the sun in the sky on the rare days it appeared. 

So, with no options left to him and a knowledge of how Henry would cheer Lissa up before his passing the year before, Inigo smiled. Everyone turned to him in shock, wondering what sort of monster would smile at his own mother's funeral. He kept smiling anyway, ignoring the tears that fell inside his heart. He smiled at Owain, who spent a moment in shock before squeezing his hand and smiling tentatively back. Even back then, he knew his duty was to protect Owain from the horrors of the world, even if it killed him. He was the prince, the one who would take over after Lucina and Brady were dead. He was important, he was going to lead all the people who followed him. 

"Hey, Owain," he whispered, just below the hum of the parents' judgements and fear, just loud enough for the snowy-haired prince with the bright eyes to hear. "It'll be alright, okay? Everything's going to be okay one day." It was a promise, one he would never forget. 

Owain's smile grew, almost to the degree of Henry's, and he spoke. "Are you kidding? How are things going to be okay? You can barely string a sentence together around anyone who isn't family, you have no friends outside of mine, and you can't even weild a sword. You're a weak crybaby, a coward." His eyes turned red and smoldered as he continued ripping into Inigo, cutting into his flesh and scraping his bones. "Your father hates you and you know it. You don't even have anything in common with him beyond your hair. Your mother wasted her life saving yo-"

Laslow's eyes snapped open to reveal the stone ceiling of the quarters he had become accustomed to during his time in Nohr. He heard no knocking and no activity, only the sound of the owls hooting outside his window. He had not overslept, yet again(something he tried to avoid yet he never seemed to wake up on time), then. He had only slept a sliver of the amount he should and had been jolted awake by the nightmare. He had not dreamed of Owain in a while, perhaps that meant he would arrive soon as well. The lack of Owain or Severa's presence in Nohr yet concerned him, making him wonder if they ended up in different kingdoms in this world. Something told him different, however. He was no sooth-sayer or fortune-teller, but when someone appears in a dream after a long absence from them, he knew that it meant something was going to happen.

Suddenly restless, the silver-haired man slipped out of bed, his feet landing lightly on the floor. He didn't bother changing, content with the white shirt and loose-fitting pants he slept in. A simple dagger was slipped into his pocket and he was more than ready to leave his quarters and walk around the premises. He didn't know what his goal was, whether is was finding Owain or just getting fresh air, but the need to get up and go was irresistible. So he didn't bother to resist and let his feet take him where they would, not even bothering to slip on his boots.

He walked along the dimly-lit hall in silence, taking in the barren nature of the hallway that matched all the other areas the king would not enter. All the retainers slept in either that hall or the one designated toward women, depending on gender. Iago's room was at the very end of the hall, near the front door, which suddenly reminded Laslow why he had never left during the night before. Iago was terrifying, and being questioned by him wasnot something Laslow ever wanted to experience. 

He eyed Iago's door s he crept closer. Slowly, he made it to the man's quarter's. Once he had finally made it there, he froze. Like a startled rabbit, he watched the door for minutes on end before decided that Iago would not pop up for a surprise interrogation. Little by little, he let himself relax. It would all be fine, he decided. Ever so carefully, he took a step towards the door to the outside. Nothing happened, and he took another step. His eyes still trained on the door, just in case, he took one last step. Finally, his hand was on the door and he could exit. One more step and-

"Going somewhere?"

The door opened and, in Laslow's shock, he fell through it with a loud cry. He crashed upon the dirt below without catching himself at all. Dust slipped into his mouth and choked him all while he scrambled to his feet and slipped his dagger into his hand. He had no idea what would happen, but he would go down figh-

Niles looked at him from the doorway with an expression that simply screamed amusement. "Are you alright?" he asked in his familiar drawl, which always make Laslow feel like he should be embarrassed whenever he heard it.

"I... I, um..." Suddenly, Laslow felt like he was a child again; just barely tying sentences together and hiding from strangers due to shyness. It took every ounce of effort not to revert to his old ways and continue on confidently, as if he had never stuttered at all. "Hello, Niles. I was going on a walk. I had some dreams that were rather unsettling."

"A walk," Niles repeated, although his version sounded a thousand times worse than anything Laslow could have ever met. "Were you planning on taking anyone, or would this be a solitary stroll?"

"I was planning on going by myself," Laslow said in reply while fervently trying to ignore the blush creeping up his neck and onto his face. "But you're welcome to join me, if you want. Although I'll only be walking, so I doubt you'll find it very entertaining."

The white-haired man opened his mouth to speak, likely some uncomfortable innuendo, but something flashed across his face and he seemed to think better of it. Instead, he said, "Well, it depends. Will you be willing to share those unsettling dreams if I prove to be a listening ear?"

The offer, so similar to the one a week ago when Niles had to wake him up, made Laslow pause. He could tell him, though he would have to be vague and not use names. He could open up, which might even be wise as it seemed he would be here for a few years at most. However, there was still something that stopped him fom truly saying what he felt inside. An entire lifetime of hiding behind a smile seemed to do that, apparently. 

Hesitantly, Laslow shook his head. "My apologies, I don't think I'm quite ready to share my inner horrors." He added a smile, one that felt just a bit more genuine than the rest, in the hopes of not worrying the senior retainer or making him speak to the princes about his concerns over Laslow's mental health. "Perhaps another time."

"Well, if that's the case, then I'll head back to bed," Niles said. If Laslow didn't know better, he'd say the man sounded disappointed, or frustrated. "Be careful on your walk, Nohr is dangerous at night."

"I doubt it's anything I can't handle," Laslow countered with a laugh. It didn't make Niles look any more relaxed, but the swordsman tried not to worry over it. He had grown up in the Apocalypse, a few brigands wouldn't kill him. "Oh, but there is something you should know."

Nile's eyebrow rose in interest. "Oh? What's that?"

"I may be wrong, but I think there might be a new person in the royal staff soon," Laslow said, his smile brightening despite the distorted memory that had become his nightmare. Memories of Owain never failed to cheer him up, no matter how annoying he was in person. "He's an interesting fellow, you might just get along."

Before Niles could question Laslow's words or ask exactly how they would get along, the swordsman walked away. He did not want to admit he was fleeing the conversation, despite that being exactly what he was doing. Hopefully his words proved useful while not making the resident royalty think he could be a spy. In hindsight, he took a huge risk mentioning that. It was on his mind, however, so he couldn't blame himself. 

No matter, he decided with a soft smile. It would all work out in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? This was marked completed before, so you didn't expect there to be more? Well... I am the angst fairy, so more will definitely pop up over time. Especially since Laslow's issues are my obsession.   
> I'm planning roughly five chapters in total, but I'm not going to promise anything.

**Author's Note:**

> I made it my personal mission to make sure AO3 has more Laslow and Niles stuff, whether it's general goodness or shippy.
> 
> Can you tell?


End file.
